


fade into you

by newflesh



Category: bare: A Pop Opera - Hartmere/Intrabartolo
Genre: Acceptance, First Kiss, Internalized Homophobia, Jason-centric, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24777715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newflesh/pseuds/newflesh
Summary: strange you never knew.or: peter and jason in transition
Relationships: Jason McConnell/Peter Simmonds
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	fade into you

**Author's Note:**

> title from fade into you by mazzy star

It starts like this:

The sun hasn't set, not yet, but the already delicate ring of light poking through the cracks in the blinds has begun to fade. That means dinner will be soon. That means they have a time limit. 

Jason and Peter sit side by side on Jason's bedspread. Jason's knees are drawn to his chest, and the material of his khaki pants makes the bottom of his chin burn just the tiniest bit. 

"Jason?" Peter's voice rings through the static previously swarming Jason's brain. Something in his tone makes anxiety swirl in the pit of Jason's stomach. His voice is faint and worried. Jason doesn't like it. Peter doesn't get scared, at least, not like Jason does. 

"Is this about what happened earlier?" Peter asks. Jason wants to shake his head, but he'd be lying. And he considers it for a minute, goes through his mind looking for some made up story he can use. He'd lie to Peter, make some excuse about going to dinner early, and escape before it's too late. 

"It wasn't your fault." he says instead, but his voice is dull and the words fall flat. 

He lets himself look over at Peter, but Peter's gaze is instead focused on his shoes; more specifically the shoelace he's pulling on. He's grateful, really, that he doesn't have to deal with Peter looking back at him. It’d be too much right now, mean too much. Jason just takes a deep breath, drinking Peter in without judgement. 

Jason hadn't wanted what happened to be a big thing, because it wasn't. Plain and simple. In fact, he had tried to catch Peter's eye in English so he could smile at him and make sure the whole situation blew over. Peter wouldn't look at him of course, just his luck really. 

Jason hadn't wanted what happened to be a big thing, but it is, and it's stupid, and Jason isn't sure what he should do. 

Peter ruffles his hair a little bit, and a clump of it is left sticking straight up in the air. Jason looks away. His hand inches the tiniest bit closer to Peter's.

What happened today had a clear order: Jason was walking to class. Peter wanted his attention. Peter grabbed his hand and threaded their fingers together. Jason ripped his hand away like Peter had burned him. Peter's face fell. Jason walked away, just like always. 

Simple, really.

"I'm sorry about- about earlier." Jason says, deciding it's a start. He looks at Peter again, and finds him smiling at Jason, tentative but so open that something in Jason starts to crack.

See, Jason has this theory. He hasn't completely figured it out yet, but what he's recently realized is that he's been standing where the beach meets the ocean for his entire life. But here's the thing: he isn't facing the water. He wants to be, but he just can't do it, because every now and then someone comes by and decides to add some more sand to his already trapped feet. His dad, Father, everyone. So every day Jason stands there, trapped, waiting for the day the waves won't crash against his back. 

The way Jason sees it, Peter makes the waves worse. Peter seems to have this power over the ocean, and is able to make it swell with a simple grin tossed Jason's way. It's dangerous, the way Peter can unwittingly make the waves unrelenting, until they crash against Jason's back over and over again, a never ending barrage leaving him sore and bruised. 

And Jason has to ask himself every night as he stares at their shared ceiling covered in tiny bumps: how long can he stand there? How long can he stand there before his spine snaps in half and the current sweeps him away?

Peter's pinky links with his, and Jason's blood comes to a simmer. It feels good, something in Jason's brain informs him, to have Peter's finger resting so lightly on top of his. 

Jason nearly laughs, tries to, but it comes out as this odd choking sound. "What are you doing to me, man?" he asks Peter, wondering just what would happen if he tried to break his feet out from under all that sand.

Peter simply stares at him, and Jason decides he just can't take it anymore. There's an ache in his chest now, beginning to radiate up to his neck, across his shoulders, down to his gut. It makes him want to run away. Instead, he grabs Peter's shoulder. 

Another wave against Jason's back. Again and again he's hit, but all Peter does is smile. 

Jason's feet shift in the sand as he cups Peter's jaw. They nearly break free when Jason leans forward to kiss Peter. It's soft, and it's gentle. It's the most intense thing Jason has ever felt and then, suddenly, it's over. He's pulling away, his hand steady against Peter's jaw as he surveys his face. 

He'd like to say that kissing Peter was like kissing Heaven, falling stars landing on his lips, but he'd be lying. The warmth of Peter's lips must be Hell itself. 

But that's not what's important to Jason, not right now. What's important is this: Peter opens his eyes slowly, and then just sits there, letting Jason's eyes examine every crack, every crevice, the way his eyes are dripping like honey. There's a freckle on his eyelid, Jason notices with a strange sense of awe. It's Peter. It's Peter and he's the closest to Jason he's ever been. Jason has to wonder how long they could've held out before finally meeting each other in the middle like this.

Jason's never been one for fate, but he believes this: he could never have gone his whole life without this kiss. It was inevitable. 

He kisses between Peter's eyebrows gently, and then lets his hand drop from his jaw as he ducks his head into Peter's chest. Peter's hands track softly over his back, the light presses smoothing out the wrinkes in Jason's button up. He presses his nose into Jason's hair, and Jason begins to shake. 

"I know," Peter whispers to him. "I know. It's okay, Jas, doesn't matter." 

Jason simply shakes his head, pressing his palm to Peter's stomach. He's finally realizing that it does matter. 

Jason finds it hard to breathe when he asks, "Have you ever felt anything like that?" 

And as much as he hopes for the relief of Peter saying no, he'd be lying if he said there wasn't this little part of him that desperately wanted Peter to give him the out. Wanted Peter to say that it didn't mean anything, or that he never wanted to talk about ever again. But Peter shakes his head, and the hand tracing Jason's back stops, moves to instead lift his jaw. For a moment they stare at each other, and it's just the two of them. Peter and Jason.

"Should we go to dinner?" Jason asks.

Peter gives him a grin. "Nah, I'm sure I've got a cliff bar buried somewhere in my backpack." 

Jason kisses him again. 

That night, Jason falls asleep with his head on Peter's chest. 

It starts like this:

Jason dreams of the ocean. In his dream he looks down at his feet, and just pulls them out of the sand, simple as that. Seagulls squeak in the background, and salt sits heavily in the air. 

"I'm gay," Dream Jason says, and he turns, ready to finally face the ocean.


End file.
